


i will take your bones and with them build a home

by meios



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meios/pseuds/meios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of kisses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i will take your bones and with them build a home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nighimpossible](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighimpossible/gifts).



> I tried to mix both the MCU canon as well as the comics canon, since we don't know exactly how Winter Soldier's story will be played out in MCU. So! Yeah. I've missed writing Marvel fic.

*****  
  
They kiss and he’s eighteen.  
  
And they’re in an alleyway with graffiti scrawled into the bricks, damning the President and all who support him; there’s blood from a mugging, rusted like the motors of old cars, and it’s splattered, paint droplets onto a canvas. And there are no roaming hands or tongues or backs to the wall, no. There is only a pair of hands on either side of his face, his own gripping Bucky’s hips, fingernails digging into the thick material of his winter coat.  
  
Steve doesn’t pull away until Bucky does, momentarily only, moving a mere fraction of an inch before delving back in again, still chaste, still hesitant. And Steve can only hum, folding into his best friend, chin tilted up, palms sliding back to meet at the bottom of Bucky’s spine.  
  
They kiss and Bucky leaves for England and Steve’s heartbeat goes with him.  
  
*****  
  
They kiss under the cover of night.  
  
They kiss wildly, without fear, far enough away from everyone else that they needn’t worry, and everything is pent up, let go like firecrackers, and Steve is taller now, bigger, and he can pick Bucky up with not a second thought in the world. And Bucky protests at first, attempts to, but his words are muffled and put away by Steve’s tongue.  
  
And Bucky’s hands find his hair, all callouses and burn scars, broken fingernails and trembling joints. His legs wrap around Steve’s waist, ankles crossed. He tugs some, and Steve finds his neck.  
  
Bucky doesn’t say anything. He just breathes.  
  
*****  
  
They kiss the night before Bucky falls.  
  
It’s tender and Steve’s shirt is somewhere that doesn’t matter right now, and Bucky’s hand rests on his cheek like it belongs there, and in between each breath, each blink, each moment where their mouths connect like electricity, they whisper.  
  
About God and about New York and about things that are so unimportant that they shouldn’t be brought up anyway, but they are. And they say it—Steve says it first, Bucky calls him soft, but he says it back—even though they don’t really need to.  
  
They know. Steve knows. Bucky knows.  
  
It’s better, says Steve, to just say it. At least once.  
  
In case something happens.  
  
*****  
  
Something happens.  
  
Bucky falls and Steve’s heartbeat falls with him.  
  
*****  
  
He doesn’t kiss anyone else.  
  
*****  
  
Bucky lives.  
  
It’s like he climbs from a pit of ashes, hair long, kohl smeared like a domino mask across his face. One arm is metal, the other made of flesh, and he looks at Steve like he’s made of nothing, and Steve throws his shield because it’s habit, because his muscles know less than his brain does.  
  
Bucky catches it.  
  
Steve’s breath catches as well, stuck in his throat, glued.  
  
When he says his name, the Winter Soldier remembers nothing, and Steve has never felt so cold.  
  
*****  
  
_Remember who you are._  
  
It’s as if he’s watching every memory Bucky has ever had flash before him, spinning like a film reel around his head, before his eyes roll back into his head for less than a moment, and then there are tears. There are tears and Bucky is looking at him, and Steve’s heartbeat is back—it hammers against his Adam’s apple, it deafens him, and Steve is wrapping big arms around his best friend’s neck.  
  
Bucky huffs against his shoulder.  
  
If he chokes out a sob, no one hears it but Steve.  
  
*****  
  
They kiss like an anachronism.  
  
They kiss and he’s far too old. The both of them are far too old, but they’re men lost in time, and they kiss in the light of day, skin meeting metal, noses bumping, a slick quirk of the lips when Bucky shoves him, makes a joke.  
  
They kiss like a stopped clock.  
  
*****


End file.
